


The Other Side: Part Three

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Erectile Dysfunction, F/M, Impotence, Sweet Dean, Tantric Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginismus, unprotected sex, vulvodynia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 00:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10842483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Carrie tries to get Dean to relax and enjoy himself in bed again.





	The Other Side: Part Three

 

 

Dean let Carrie snuggle under his arm. They'd piled the pillows and sleeping bags and anything soft they could find together and tucked underneath it.

"I'm not used to being still like this," he said, shifting.

"You don't like it?"

"No. It's just weird. Like I should be doing something."

"You are," she said softly.

"I am?"

"You're doing me."

He chuckled. "Mmmmhmmm."

She let her hands start on the buttons of his blue shirt and slowly slipped them free, watching in fascination as his chest was revealed inch by inch. Dean seemed to be focused on her hands. He took a deep breath, one that moved his ribs under her touch. He seemed to sink into the foam mattress.

"You're a bad girl." He chided, his voice deep and rough.

"I am not." She said, starting on his belt.

He rocked his hips a little. "I hope you are."

She knelt next to him and hooked her hands into the waist band and pulled them down. "I wanna see you naked."

"See, now that's something a bad girl would say." He said with a grin as she got his pants caught on his ankle. He helped her by toeing them the rest of the way off.

Carrie settled back next to him and put a hand on his bare knee. "You're so handsome." And he was, lying there, nude except for the open dark blue shirt and the pendant he always wore. She let her gaze slowly and purposefully linger on his body. She drank in the big broad shoulders, the wide chest expanding slowly with his relaxed breaths, his toned stomach that tapered into his hips. Then down farther to the thatch of dark hair. Even flaccid, his penis was a substantial size, not enough to intimidate but enough to look proportional. She let her gaze skate down those powerful fucking thighs and the bowlegs. Even his feet were nice.

Dean seemed surprisingly shy under her lingering glances. Carrie could see his slight blush and the open insecurity in his big green eyes. She figured it was most likely insecurity about his lack of erection--as if he wasn't fucking perfect with or without one.

She squeezed his knee. "Can I give you a massage?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Whatever you want, sweetheart. Need me to give you one?"

She moved her hand up the front of his thigh a little. "I want to do this for you."

He smiled at her, still seeming a little nervous but like he was trying to hide it. "Okay, M not gonna turn down a good rub down."

"Sit up."

He did, looking a little puzzled until she straddled him and pushed his shirt the rest of the way off his shoulders. The fabric slid down his arms with a whisper. He blinked at her, big eyes with impossibly curling lashes. The slight cleft in his chin caught the light as he moved.

"Dean." She leaned forward and kissed his cheekbone. His eyes shut and she ghosted another tender kiss over the lid. "Relax." She said, her voice soft and quiet.

She got off him and he pulled his shirt off his wrists and threw it aside. She pushed him onto his back.

"Shouldn't I be on my stomach?" He asked.

"Shhh." She took his hand and set it on her lap, then began to rub it, kneading between his thumb and pointer finger.

He hummed in happy surprise. "That feels nice."

She traced over the delicate bones in the top of his hands, got in between his elegant fingers and then soothed his wrist. --Taking all the tension with her movement. She studied the network of lines that chased their way in intersections on his palm and wondered what they meant. What future they foretold.

"I've never had someone rub my hand before."

"Honey?"

"M' back. My dick," he gave her his smirk. "Not my hand. Feels nice".

They looked ruggedly elegant but she could almost feel some irregularities in the bone under the skin from breaks. She brought the back of his hand to the her lips. "I love these hands."

She took the other one and did the same thing. "Roll over."

His dimple appeared, his face lit up with boyish mischief. "Yeah?"

"Yes." She said firmly.

"Oh I love it when you get all take charge, baby."

She snorted and tapped his arms. "Come on."

He rolled over adjusted himself and settled in.

The view from the back was equally spectacular. The curves of the muscle on his shoulder blades and the curve of his lumbar spine. That ass. That phenomenal fucking ass. And the backs of those legs. His calf muscles, all dips and valleys. So gorgeous.

She started with his neck. That vulnerable spot just under his hair line. She rubbed it a moment and kissed it, smelling his shampoo and wood smoke on his hair. Dean hummed into the pillow.

She kneeded with her thumb and forefinger, then moved to his shoulders and gently stroked and soothed. Soft, firm touches, never breaking contact with his skin, working over his body, pausing on knots. She always knew when she'd hit one by his breathing alone. They released readily for the most part until she found a tough one near the dimples in his back.  She watched him move, his fingers twist into the sheets as she worked.

 "Breathe," she told him, working it, rolling the skin between her fingers.

He whimpered and then sucked in a deep breath and she felt the knot release. "That's it..."

Her hands edged to the top of his ass and lingered there, then moved down to the cheeks. They flexed under her touch.

"Oh that's sore." He said.

"Some of the biggest muscle groups in the body," she told him.

Dean's ass was very muscled and firm. She worked him, pushed the heel of her hand into him. He grunted and she felt him tense in resistance to her ministrations. "Hey." She gave him a light spank. "Don't fight me. Relax. "

He stopped squeezing the muscle and she was able to work him again, until a rosy glow of increased blood flow started to stain the whiteness of his ass. She moved to the back of his thighs. He jumped a little. "Let go, sweetheart. You're so protective."

He itched his nose on his forearm. "What's that mean?"

"You're tense." She gave his hips a little rocking shake. "Relax. You keep tightening to protect yourself."

"Can't help it."

"Yes you can," she said, smoothing her hands down his legs long and slowly. "Get out of your head. You're with me. Just focus on me. Focus on my hands." She massaged his thigh, pushing in deeper. Then lightened her touch, watching her fingers run through the fine hair on his legs.

 "Most people carry their stress in their shoulders but you, handsome, have it in your low back and ass and legs...And your bow legs..." she moved to the outside and kept rubbing in gentle strokes, "move your weight to the outside of your foot and make tension in your calves." 

"How do you know this stuff?" he asked, shifting on his belly.

"I took some massage classes."

"I didn't know that." Dean said. "That's sexy as hell."

"Lots of things you don't know about me." She said, watching his profile.

"That's sexy too." He said. "You get to practice on each other in class?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about you rubbing the other girls," He prompted with a smirk.

She snorted. "Pervert."

She saw his teeth flash in a smile from his turned head.

Her thumbs found the soft divot in the back of his knees and caressed them. He jumped a little, not used to the touch.  She slid her hands over his calves, gentle and fluid, then gently rubbed his Achilles heel until she felt the tendon soften. "Roll over."

She leaned down and kissed his full lips as soon as he did. Dean widened his eyes in shock and then went with it, mouth opening, tongue flicking against hers, seeking access. She opened wide to him. They kissed deeply until she broke away.

He smiled up at her. "That was nice. "

"Did that help get you out of your head?"

"No," he quipped, "you have to keep doing that."

She settled behind him, put his head in her lap and began caressing his scalp. He hummed and his eyes closed as he turned his head so that his cheek rested on her thigh. She felt him relax suddenly. His entire body lost its tension and surrendered.

A tear slipped down his temple and dampened her jeans. She watched his face contort for a second. He was feeling something that came with the release, some emotional trauma.

"Let it go," she whispered, hands still rubbing his scalp. She worked on a spot just behind his ear.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"  He whispered, eyes still shut, jaw trembling.

"Nothing honey. Emotional trauma is stored in the muscles. I've just released a bunch of things. It's releasing your emotion. It's It's a good thing."

His shoulders shook once with a repressed sob.

"Shhh. Let it go. Let it go, baby." She carded her fingers through his hair and watched the tears escape silently from his closed eyes.

"I'm here." Her voice was soft. "I'm here with you."

 After another minute or so his face relaxed and he wiped his hand over his eyes. "Fuck, Carrie. What are you doing to me? I just wanted to get laid." He said shakily, rolling onto his back again. His nose was slightly blotchy with color. His lids red-rimmed from emotion.

  "This is good for you. "

 "No." He said. "No, it's really not."

"Yes it is. She gently swirled her fingers over his forehead, the scar from the car accident there, and then his cheekbones. Traced his jawline.

Dean relaxed again, his head heavy in her lap. She worked his neck, the front of his throat and the muscles in back, slowly stretching him upward and decompressing his spine. He sighed. She set him down on the foam mattress and moved to where she could reach his pecs, set her hands on them. _God they were amazing_. And his stomach was amazing--all the little creases and shadows. She swirled her finger around his navel and then traced it along the divot that disappeared into the dark hair at his pubic bone. 

 He hummed approval. She took both hands and kneeded his hip bone again. 

 "You know where I hold a lot of tension?" Dean asked. 

 "No."

 "My dick. I think you need to rub it."

 She laughed. "Okay, I walked right I want that one."

She took his penis into her hand and squeezed and caressed. He was flaccid, pliant. Dean breathed deeply and groaned. 

 She lingered there for a few minutes, waiting for a response. But he remained soft as she dipped down to his balls and cupped them, rolled the little firm sac inside gently into her finger. He gasped and whimpred, his hip arching up into her hands. She could feel his penis turning into a spongy consistency, filling a little bit. It seemed to sort of plateau there. 

 She moved her attentions down to the front of his thighs and his knees. Then his shins where he had a few knots she freed. And finally his feet. They were nice like the rest of him, he had tension in the arches that she worked out til her hands ached and then she flopped down next to him

 "Was it good for you?" She asked breathlessly. 

 He gave her a smile and pulled her into his arms. "C'mere." He kissed her earlobe. "God, what an awesome chick you are."

She snuggled into him. He felt so nice to be wrapped up with. He tangled his leg around her, pulled her closer to him and trapped her under the weight of it. He held her like that for a few minutes, long enough for her body to start to get the idea that a nude Dean leaned against her was an erotic thing and then he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes and she could tell he was drifting to sleep. She let him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Carrie woke up later to warm breath against her ear and gentle kisses. "Dean," she moaned.

"Yeah." He said softy, slipping his hand under her t-shirt to caress her back. She sat up for a second to toss it off and laid back down on her stomach. He circled the back of his knuckles over her. 

"Carrie, you're dangerous."

"What?" she asked, twisting to look at him. "Why?"

"A guy can get attached to you, sweetheart."

She shook her head. "Sure he can."

Dean leaned over her and pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. She could feel the light bump of his pendant against her back bone.  It felt so fucking good. He let his chest rub against her back, put just the slightest bit of his weight against her, letting her feel his bulk. He squeezed the cheek of her ass through her jeans and gave a little swat, then settled next to her on his elbows and studied her with his charmingly adorable smile. "You have a good nap?"

She returned it. "Apparently you did. "

"Had a dream I had some hot blonde chick rub me down from head to toe. There seems to be some other part of the dream I need to talk about."

"Such as? "

"I don't know." He nudged her playfully with his nose and nipped her shoulder. "Seem to think there's some other part where I get my hands on her and repay the favor." He reached under her belly and unsnapped her jeans. 

She giggled. "I don't remember that part. "

"Course you do." He said tugging at her jeans until they slid down and the air hit her bare ass. He pulled them so that they pooled down at her ankles and left them there. She started to kick them off and his lips were on the curve of her Lumbar spine. "Oh," she shuddered. 

"I'm pretty sure," Dean said into her skin, "that I used my tongue for most of that rub instead of my hands."

You would. She said. He slid his tongue lower and then off to the side until he was kissing the cheek of her ass. 

Carrie groaned as his hands joined the mix. He dropped lower and kissed the very back of her thighs. She jumped in delight at the feel of his face there and the tickle of his short spiked hair against her ass as he moved his head. He locked his lips onto the back of her knee and she jumped so hard that he held her down with both hands. He kept kissing and her stomach coiled. It was almost too much sensation. A tickle but a pleasure pain. She fisted her hands in the sheets. "Dean, that's too much."

He hummed and moved down to rub her calves and then suddenly he took her legs by the ankles and spread them open a little.

"Dean." She said in surprise.

He settled on his knees between her legs. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What are you..." She felt concerned again. A little exposed but a little excited at the same time. 

"Hey..." he said. "Sweetheart. It's okay." He leaned over and his hand was on her lower back. She got up on her hands and knees, he slowly slid them around and up under her breasts. she could feel his pelvis lined up behind her. She went a bit stiff.

"Carrie?" His voice was concerned. "Sweetheart, I'm not gonna take you like this. Relax."

She did once he said it. 

His hand smoothed over her back. 

"I haven't been with someone in so long," she dropped her head down, still on all fours, her hair making a curtain over her face. 

Dean moved from where he was and brushed it aside so he could see her expression. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'd never hurt ya, baby."

"I know." She said. 

He snorted, glanced down at himself. "Don't think he's up to hurting anything at the moment anyway. Except maybe my ego."

Carrie laughed and flopped down onto her side. 

"He'll join the party when he's good and ready." She said. 

"Keep sending him invites."

"You're pestering him to show up. Have fun without him. He'll get jealous and join us eventually."

Dean flopped next to her again. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucked it behind her ear. "You're gorgeous, you know. All of you is gorgeous." 

She felt herself blush. 

"You are." He said earnestly.  "You gotta know that, baby."

The compliment made her a little uncomfortable.

"The things I want to do to you." He said.

She flushed again. "Well that's mutual."

"Yeah?" He asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice, then mischief. "Tell me. Stop bein shy."

"Shy is kinda who I am." She replied.

"I know, sweetheart." He leaned over and nuzzled her ear again, his breath warm. "It's kinda hot."

"It is?" She buried her head in his neck.

"Yeah. But what's hot about a good girl is getting a little bad girl outta her. Lemme see it. I know it's there."

She bit down on the juncture of his shoulder.

He growled with a low chuckle. "There it is...What do you need from me, baby? Tell me. I'll give you whatever you need."

He made her so hot just saying the words.

"I don't know what I need until you do it." She said.

He shifted. "Oh, that's hot too."

His hands were on her again and he pulled her flush to his nude body. She wrapped herself around him and their mouths met in a passionate kiss. He held it until she had to come up for air. Her hands went down his back and he rolled her under him. She took a hold of his ass, digging her fingers into the muscle. Dean moaned and rolled his hip into her in a pantomime of intercourse. He was still mostly soft but he was groaning and sliding his body against hers. It was a great tease. She wanted him so bad she could taste it.

He held himself like that for a bit then seemed to get a little frustrated at himself. She cupped his handsome face. "Look at me."

He did.

She didn't say anything just held his gaze with her own intensity.

She bent her knees up and pushed up against him.

He closed his eyes. "This is Killing me."

She kissed his cheek and wriggled underneath him. "Stop worrying about it." She panted. She took hold of his pendant and used it to tug his head closer until his lips were in range and she kissed him on the lips and then his chin. "This is nice."

"This is torture." He said. She reached between them and took him into her hand.

Dean sucked in a startled breath and moaned. "Oh, god."

She squeezed him. "This still feel good?"

He swallowed. "Yeah." He whispered.

She squeezed him again. "Then there's no problem, baby." She moved her hand back farther and took the softness of his testes into her palm, let her hand close ever so gently around them. Dean moaned and dropped his head into her shoulder. "You're so handsome," she told him. "So fucking hot. I love touching you. I love hearing you."

He whimpered and it shot a surge of lust through her like a knife.

She moved her palm again. Gently. She loved this part of him, so sensitive. Knew she could hurt him if she used just a little too much pressure but he let her feel them anyway. It was an expression of trust in a way.

She ghosted her fingers back farther and it stole his breath. She pressed in softly, moving, exploring, until she got a cry. There it was. The nerve bundle behind his testes. She caressed, pushing in and she felt Dean quake and his legs gave out a little, increasing his weight on top of her. She watched his biceps flex as he shifted to hold himself up. "Carrie..." there was a raw need in his voice that she responded to.

She could feel his perspiration suddenly. The sweat on his skin making him slide a bit on her chest and belly.

He felt so fragile suddenly. There was power there. A lot of it, but it seemed as if his focus had changed. As if he were receiving her in a weird way instead of trying to penetrate her. She kept up her gentle toying with his perineum, urging him to come. His penis had swelled a little into a sort of partial erection pressing into her thigh.

"Uh..." he seemed frustrated suddenly, jerking himself away a little. "Stop." He panted.

She pulled her hand back.

"Too intense." He whispered rolling off her onto his side. His hand went to his dick and sort of hovered there for a second.

"Go ahead." She whispered. "If you need to."

He shook his head. "Nuh. Just..." He took a deep breath and adjusted himself and laid back, shuddering a little.

She touched his shoulder and he winced. She pulled back. "What?"

"Just..." he took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "Intense."

She let him have a minute to ground himself. Feeling her own arousal pulsing between her legs, her concern for him the only thing keeping it at bay. He had been so close to climaxing. She wanted to HEAR him do it, FEEL him do it. That deep fucking groan he gave. That tensing of his muscles and the release in little shocks.

"Did you come just now?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Just got real intense suddenly. Kinda started to hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"No..." he said. "Felt really, really good-- just got too much."

He reached for her. "I'm good now."

She squeaked as he dragged her over. "You think of naughty things when you take over."

She smirked. "Yeah. Hey Dean? Can you sit up and have me sit on your lap?"

"Sure sweetheart." He sat up and leaned his back against the mountain of cushions they'd put there. He crossed his legs and she straddled him and settled on his lap. His hands went to her hips and she set hers on his broad shoulder, feeling the mattress beneath her heels and Dean's hips underneath her.

"Feels nice." He said.

"Yeah." She hugged him reveling in the feel of his chest against her bare breasts. "You ever hear of tantric sex?"

"Yeah? You mean those eight hour marathon things?

"That's not what it is though. It's the spiritual side of it. I've always been fascinated."

"You have huh?"

"Mmmhmm." She mimicked, turning the phrase on him. "Always needed a willing partner. Do I have one?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Maaaybe."

* * *

 

 


End file.
